The Flapper Affair: A 1920s Time Travel Murder Mystery Paranormal Romance by Tam Francis

Author:Tam Francis [Francis, Tam]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
ISBN: 9781542820479
Publisher: Plum Creek Publishing
Published: 2017-07-14T22:00:00+00:00

The old-folks home smelled like bleach, urine, and stale bread. He didn’t like it one bit. He’d only ever been to a nursing home once before when he’d tried the school’s Key Club, but that had been a disaster. Not the nursing home, but the club, or the kids in it, anyway.

The reception lobby décor was overly cheerful and equally bleak. Trying hard not to look like a hospital, yet too clean and sterile. An overabundance of indoor plants and Thomas Kincaide prints clashed with the hard tile flooring and long halls lined with thick railings down each side. The receptionist directed him to Cee Cee’s room.

The reality of old age clashed with the snippets of Viagra ads blaring from the televisions as he walked down the hall. None of these seniors would be leading an active lifestyle, no matter how much Viagra they took. I don’t want to get old and end up in a nursing home. A shiver ran up his spine.

Reruns of America’s Funniest Home Videos assaulted his ears when he drew near Mrs. Manning-Washington’s room. He knocked on the doorframe and pushed the extra-wide door, opening it into the darkened room. Television light flickered across a small, dark figure in the corner bed.

“Hello. Mrs. Washington? Mrs. Cecelia Manning Washington?”

The only indication that she’d heard him was the slight flicker of light as it played across her face when she moved her head toward the door. The acknowledgement was quickly gone, and she returned her gaze to the wall-mounted television high in the corner. She let out a loud guffaw, flicked off the set, then fumbled with a control panel that had more buttons than his home remote. Her long fingers squirmed over the buttons like earthworms. Suddenly, the overhead lights popped on.

The illusion of apartment living was completely obliterated by the hospital bed, hanging shower curtain room divider, and the bedside commode. He prayed it had been recently emptied.

“I might be. Who wants to know?” Her voice was strong and proud with a hint of playfulness.

“Hi, my name is Eduard Hall, and I work at the Waverly House Museum and…”

“I don’t know nothing. My mama told me to mind my own. It weren’t nothing but white folks own business.”

He approached her bed, hovering at the foot but in plain view, if she felt the need to inspect him.

“Um, I didn’t come here to ask about the murders. See, um we’re having a Gala to celebrate the mansion’s beautiful heritage and art deco style. We hoped you might want to be a special guest and give a talk about what it was like to live there in the 1920s.”

“How ’bout that. If that don’t beat all. Well, pull up a chair. Let me have a look at you. You’re a skinny thing aren’t you? Remind me of my Jaylen. He was tall, dark, and handsome like you, but a might bit darker.” She let go a loud guffaw.

Eduard smiled, scooted the empty commode out of the way, and pulled over an angular padded chair that was more comfortable than it looked.

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